


Ghost Story

by delusionalintrospection



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusionalintrospection/pseuds/delusionalintrospection
Summary: Some things are scarier.(For AmurTigress on Lioden)





	Ghost Story

He didn't know what to do with her. She was a wraithe, a ghost, a legend- a scary story to tell the cubs to keep them from wandering too far from the pride or the broodmothers. He'd fought her, a time or two, but it always ended in a stalemate; mostly because he knew. He  _knew_  that she wouldn't be satisfied with a win. She wouldn't stop. She would drop him and kill him, and then she would eat him. She would eat him the way she'd done lost cubs, or lionesses and lions that had wandered into his territory and died of what ever cause. (Sometimes, that cause was her, he was sure.) And he couldn't leave his pride helpless, defenseless- especally not with  _her_  wandering the territory. But neither could he simply let her have the run of the place. So they'd clash, and fight until she was too exhausted to continue- and then he'd leave her with a warning to stay away from his pride and out of his way.   
  
And she would, for a while.   
  
Then a cub would go missing.   
  
And it would start all over again.   
  
No one was sure what had gone wrong in her head. No one was sure where she'd even  _come from_ , not even him. One day he'd just stumbled over her- or rather, she'd stumbled over him. And by stumbled, he meant she'd pounced him from above and tried to kill him. He'd tried everything- talking sense to her, threatening her; begging, blackmailing, weedling.   
  
Nothing worked. 

Another clash, another tussle. She always fought like she thought if she lost- even if he didn't kill her, even if he told her he wouldn't- that she would die, or worse. And honestly, it seemed like she thought there might be a worse. He wasn't sure what that was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but it was in her eyes, when they fought. It was in the twist of her smile that was more a snarl, in the way she  _twitched_ , in the way he would swear she was seeing someone else when she looked at him. Someone had done her very wrong, and not only hurt her deeply but  _broken_  her, utterly, down to her core. A parent? No. Male?   
  
It did seem to be that she looked at  _him_  more warily, more deeply, then anyone else. It seemed to be  _him_  that brought her insanity out the worst.  Or maybe he was just overthinking it.   
  
 _She watched him pacing. He was thinking about her again. She didn't want that. He needed to not do that. He didn't have the right to think about her, or talk about her, or look at her. None of them did. She snarled, eyes flashing. She should remind them. She should show them why you didn't talk about her, why you didn't say bad things about her._  
  
You should, whispered the girl voice that always agreed with her, that loved it when she had her hot ideas, her red, angry ideas. You should show them all. You should sneak up in the night. Find the cubs. 

 _Show them all._  
  
She shook her head with a snarl, laying spread out on the rock outcropping. She couldn't. They outnumbered her. She'd havThen she would strike.   
  
Then she would remind them that she was no story.   
  
She was very  
  
very   
  
real. 


End file.
